


Nine Grams

by Moiraine



Category: The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Angst, Character Death, Character Death Fix, Depression, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-15
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 19:36:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moiraine/pseuds/Moiraine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Marcus is killed in action, his uncle, one of the leading minds in artificial intelligence, decides to try and bring his nephew back. This has grave and unexpected consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is basically a fill for [this prompt](http://the-eagle-kink.livejournal.com/5005.html?thread=4582541#t4582541). I saw it on the meme a few months ago and immediately began poking at an idea. And then I left it for a couple months, where it's been staring at my balefully every time I open Google Docs. So I decided to post the first little piece.
> 
> I'm using a bunch of snippets that switch back and forth, so this probably doesn't get into as much detail as the OP would have liked. And some things might be unexplained initially, but will be revealed in time. As a warning, the prompt requires Marcus to die, so actual living, flesh and blood Marcus is dead.

Standing in the cold drizzle, Aquila looked down at the engraving on the cold, black marble of the headstone and thought _what a waste_. Marcus had been the only family left to him after his brother had died and he’d become the son Aquila never had. He squeezed the stone as another wave of grief swept over him. It wasn’t fucking fair. Marcus had been so good, so open, so loving.  He deserved more than to die on some goddamned battlefield because the powers that be couldn’t be satisfied with what they had.

He wiped a hand across his face, telling himself it was just the rain, and turned to head for his car. Marcus, the boy he loved, was gone now…but he didn’t have to stay gone. All through the drive home, he turned the idea over in his mind. Aquila wasn’t considered the leading mind in the field of artificial cognitive and emotional development for nothing. His designs had revolutionized the world of android robotics and every machine walking around today with even the barest of emotional capabilities owed its existence to him.

But Aquila had never released his greatest plans, never shown another soul the extent that he had taken his programming. It had been too risky. He knew the consequences of allowing that research to fall into the wrong hands and he’d vowed to never actually use it, saving the programming as something of an intellectual challenge when he was bored. But now.... He pulled into the garage, still thinking, and immediately headed down to his basement workshop. The computer came to life at his entry and he immediately went to the file that contained everything he would need to set his plan into motion.

Autonomous Adaptive Intelligence.

Everyone thought it was impossible, that computers, no matter how complex and sophisticated, could never be self-aware, could never be more than their programming. They thought computers would never be able to truly learn, think and feel on their own, without a program telling them to do so. They thought that simple artificial intelligence was the pinnacle of development.

They knew _nothing_.

Aquila opened the folder and got started.

~*~

He blinked, coming awake with a sudden rush and looking out at a room he’d never seen before.

“Marcus?"

Marcus turned his head to the side and blinked again, frowning. “Uncle Aquila?”

His uncle’s face broke into a relieved smile. “It worked,” he whispered, half to himself. “Thank God, it worked.”

“Uncle Aquila?” Marcus asked again, unable to hide his confusion. “What’s going on?  Where am I?”

“You’re in my lab,” his uncle said gently. “It’s a long story. Come on, let’s get you upstairs and I’ll explain.”  


~*~

“I’m dead?!”

Aquila’s heart twisted at the expression of confusion and grief that creased Marcus’s face. If he’d been successful, the pain Marcus was feeling had to be indescribable. For a moment, he considered activating a subroutine to ease Marcus’s panic, but held off. If this was really to work, then he couldn’t do that, couldn’t touch Marcus’s programming again.

“Yes,” he said gently.

“But how? When?”

“Try and access your memories, Marcus. While I was programming you, I tried to put in everything I could remember. You have this information. Now you just have to recall it.”

Marcus’s brows furrowed, his expression shifting as he sorted through his memory files. After a few moments, his face smoothed out somewhat. “I was killed in action,” he said quietly. A shorter pause.  “Almost three years ago.” He looked up. “Have you spent all that time…recreating me?”

“A good deal of it, yes. Well over two years.”

“Why?”

“Do you really have to ask?” Aquila asked softly. “I love you, Marcus. What happened wasn’t fair.  I wanted to give you a second chance.”

“I’m not Marcus.”

“You will be.” Aquila smiled. “You will be.”

~*~

It was strange to walk around this house that he knew, but didn’t know. See the pictures where he recognized himself, but not the place it was taken. Watch videos and hear himself talk and laugh, but not remember doing so.

He had memories, lots of them, but they were incomplete. They rarely involved simply Marcus and one other person. Marcus knew why. His uncle had to build the memories from something and asking people was the only way to do it. And he couldn’t very well ask people who were no longer around. He found himself wanting those memories that were lost to him forever. His entire military service was a hole, which made sense. His uncle couldn't very well go and ask his unit and commanding officers for memories, it would raise too many questions. So Uncle Aquila volunteered every scrap of information he could when Marcus asked, dredging through the depths of his own memory for things he had forgotten until it was jolted loose by a question. He was so eager to see Marcus grow, thrilled when the adaptive memory system he’d built was able to take words and images and convert them into seamless memories for Marcus.

But they didn’t help ease the ache of Marcus missing his parents.

There were times, lying in his bed, when Marcus would swear he could feel his mind growing, like a plant, sending out roots and tendrils and anchoring itself deep. Day by day, things became easier, felt more natural. He no longer paused or hesitated before doing or saying something, growing in confidence as the line between man and machine blurred for him. He knew he was an android, knew that he would always know that on some deep intrinsic level, but he _felt_ human.

It pleased Uncle Aquila so much, and in turn Marcus was thrilled he could give his uncle that. Uncle Aquila hugged him, embraced him, ruffled his hair. They spent long hours together, talking and joking and falling into an easy routine.

It was easy to forget that there had once been another Marcus, a man of flesh and blood who now lay tucked beneath the earth, and that he was a replacement.

~*~

It began, like all ends do, with small things.

Marcus was incredible. Aquila had hoped for such completeness, but never thought he would see it.  His programming had surpassed all of his expectations and Marcus was more human than many of the people Aquila knew. With his nephew back, he knew he could finally be at peace.

Until Marcus changed.

At first, he didn’t even notice it. Marcus would respond to something in a manner Aquila didn’t expect.  It was always close to what his nephew would have done, but ever so slightly…off. A joke would garner a new reaction or he would say something that make Aquila pause because the combination of words was something he’d never heard Marcus say.

And as he paid more careful attention, he noticed other, bigger changes. Sometimes he came home to find Marcus in the garden, carefully tending the plants, or curled up in the library, a book of history open on his lap. They were all fine pursuits, but ones Marcus had never shown any interest in before. Marcus had been intelligent and caring, but also a tad wild and carefree, never comfortable unless he was always in motion.

This Marcus was quieter, had a well of depth and wisdom that was new and different. And it hit Aquila like a blow to the gut one day, months after Marcus had woken up, that the man with his fingers buried in the rich soil of his garden wasn’t his nephew.

It was like losing Marcus all over again and he had to blink rapidly until his vision cleared. He must have made some sound because Marcus turned, his lips curving into a smile that stopped halfway. “Uncle?  Is something wrong?”

Everything.

“No, Marcus,” Aquila said, feeling the lie heavy on his tongue. “Nothing’s wrong.”

~*~

_Marcus,_

_I am so, so sorry for doing this. No one ever accused me of being brave and it shames me to admit that I’m a coward. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I need to explain myself and what I’ve done._

_My nephew was an incredible man and I loved him very much. But he died. And instead of accepting that, I ran away from the truth and thought that I could undo the tragedy that befell him. I tried to play God and I shouldn’t have._

_You’re not my nephew. I should have listened when you told me that, but I was too caught up in my fantasies to see. No matter what I want, you can never be my Marcus._

_What you are, however, is a wonder. You are amazing, Marcus, and I’ve done you many disservices, not the least of which is trying to make you into someone you’re not. Anyone would be proud to call you family, and even though I may not appear to show it, you are the greatest thing I’ve ever created. I will forever be proud of you, not just for my own part in what you are, but more so for the fact that you’ve created yourself and truly become your own man._

_I’m so sorry that I’m running away like this, again. But I’m an old man who’s lost much and being around you has become too painful for me. I cannot stay. That isn’t your fault, so please don’t ever blame yourself. But my leaving frees you. You need to become the person you’re meant to be and you cannot do that if I’m keeping you shackled to a ghost. Someday, I hope I can return, that I can know you for who you really are._

_The estate is yours. You have access to all the accounts. Use them as you see fit. In the safe, you’ll find identification and licensing documents. They are the highest levels available, and with them, you can do whatever you want._

_I know this will be a shock. I’ll be sending someone to take care of the place until you feel you’re up to it. What you do after that is your choice._

_Live, Marcus. Be happy._

_Uncle Aquila_

Marcus stared down at the letter. Even with all the data pads around, Uncle Aquila had always loved using real pen and ink for the important things.

He stood in the kitchen for a long while, staring out into nothing. He understood what his uncle was saying and though he was angry, he couldn’t really blame him. But where did that leave him? He might not be the same exact man Uncle Aquila remembered, but he was still _Marcus_ , and with his last and only tie to his life gone, he didn’t know what to do.

When evening fell, he was still standing in the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

Esca needed this job. He needed the money. He also needed to get out of the fucking city, away from all the people and all the _goddamn robots_.

The gig sounded almost too good to be true, and he wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to land it. Doing maintenance on some rich estate, living _in_ the main house, a fat paycheck in his account every month. And the only thing he had to watch out for was his employer’s nephew, some soldier named Marcus who’d been discharged after getting wounded. In fact, that had been the only specific instruction he’d been given—stay out of Marcus’s way unless he said otherwise.

He knocked when he got to the house, merely to be polite, but when there was no answer, he punched the security code into the keypad, turned the key in the lock—it was kind of quaint, really, that this rich old scientist still used _keys_ —and let himself in.

“Hello?” he called, trying to give some warning that he was in the house. There was no answer.  “Hello?” he called again, louder. Still nothing but silence greeted him. “Oh, well,” he muttered. “I tried.” He shrugged his shoulders, shifting the heavy bag that held all his worldly possessions inside, and set off into the house, scoping out the rooms for one he could claim as his own.

He didn’t actually see the nephew until he’d been there four or five days and was beginning to think that maybe the guy had just moved out or something. When Esca did run into him, Marcus scared him shitless. He was coming down the stairs, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and heading for the kitchen and its glorious coffee when he’d turned a corner and found someone standing there.  He yelped and jumped back, ready to defend himself before he realized that the man who’d turned to look at him was the same one he’d seen in most of the pictures scattered around the house.

“Oh, hey, man. Sorry. Just scared me a bit.” He held out a hand. “Name’s Esca. Your uncle hired me to take care of the place.”

Marcus just stared at him and made no move to take his hand. Esca kept it out for several long, awkward moments before finally letting it fall to his side. Fine. If the guy didn’t want to be polite, it was no skin off Esca’s nose.

“Right, well, I’m just gonna go get some coffee and then I’ll get started for the day. Holler if you need anything.”

Marcus didn’t respond to that either, just went back to staring at the pictures with a lost look on his face. Esca mentally corrected the “wounded” in his head to “broken.”

~*~

It wasn’t that Marcus tried to avoid Esca. It was just easier to…not be around him. He still felt lost all the time, wandered the house at odd hours of the day, unsure of what to do with himself. Sometimes he looked through the pictures of the real Marcus’s life, watched the videos that showed him as a man well loved, and regretted bitterly that he wasn’t that man. He was angry at Marcus, angry at him for dying because if he hadn’t, then he—the _fake_ Marcus—wouldn’t ever have been created just to be abandoned.

He thought about just shutting himself down sometimes, or letting his power charge drain until he ceased functioning. But it felt cowardly, a cheap way out of the mess he was in, so he struggled on, the coding that made up his personality refusing to let him give up.

What had Uncle Aquila meant for him to do out here alone? He had access to Uncle Aquila’s accounts and money; he could go off into the city, explore what he wanted, go anywhere he wanted. He could even get a job or go to school if he want to, but he had no desire to do any of that. Everything he knew was here, there was no reason to leave.

The only thing he still found the will to do was work in the garden, sinking his fingers into the warm soil or running them over the fragile, delicate leaves and blossoms. He did use the accounts for that, to order fertilizer and new blooms at the same time he ordered the liquids and chemicals that kept up his human appearance, gave the shine to his eyes, the spit in his mouth, the sweat on his skin.

Esca found him there one morning, and being in the middle of planting the flowers that had been delivered yesterday, Marcus couldn’t drift away like he normally did. Instead he kept his attention focused on his task.

“Oh, hey,” Esca said. “I was gonna get to that, you know.”

“It’s fine,” Marcus replied quietly. “I like it.”

“Okay. So…I’ll just leave it to you then, shall I?” Marcus just nodded. A long minute of silence dragged out, Esca shuffling his feet. “All right then. I’m…gonna go check the fences. See ya.”

Waiting until the sound of his footsteps faded, Marcus looked up, following Esca’s slight figure as he made his way down to the shed. For all that he made no overtures to him, Marcus liked Esca, if only because he wasn’t constantly comparing Marcus to the one who came before.

~*~

“So, what happened to you?” It wasn’t a graceful question, and Esca winced at how blunt it was, but Marcus was so goddamned hard to nail down that trying to do so made Esca feel like he was trying to be a fucking ninja. Was it really that much to ask to want to know about the guy he essentially lived with a little better? Besides, he got the feeling that Marcus didn’t have any friends and with his uncle gone, he was basically alone. Esca knew enough about that to not want to wish it on anyone.

Marcus stiffened where he was standing in from of one of the wide glass doors looking out over the back lawn of the estate. He turned his head sharply, eyes gleaming in the dim light. “I didn’t hear you.”

Esca shrugged. “I can be quiet when I wanna be. So…you?”

Marcus turned away. “I don’t wish to discuss it.”

“Fair enough. We’ve all got our demons. Just figured I’d offer an ear if you needed it.”

There was a grunt of acknowledgment as Esca came to stand beside Marcus. “It’s…complicated,” the bigger man muttered.

“Isn’t everything?” Esca replied wryly. He sighed, watching as the first morning light crept through the fog rolling over the land. “This place is beautiful, you know? Real peaceful. A good place to heal.”

“Yes,” Marcus whispered, sounding wistful and unbearably sad.

Esca cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, I should get something to eat. You want any grub?”

“I…no. Thank you, though.”

“No problem.” Heading for the fridge, Esca pulled out a few eggs, figuring eggs and toast would be a good way to start the morning and it would easy enough to make more if Marcus changed his mind.

~*~

It was hard to ignore someone when they were being friendly. Marcus felt a little pang of guilt each time he turned down a subtle or not-so-subtle overture from Esca. He didn’t know how to rebuff him gently.  Neither Uncle Aquila’s programming nor his own explorations of Marcus’s past had given any hint. The real Marcus had always been warm and friendly, ready and willing to talk or listen to just about anyone.

With a sigh, Marcus supposed that he should at least _try_ to be a bit friendlier. Esca seemed perfectly content being out here alone—at least, he’d had no visitors—but it couldn’t hurt to try and strike up a friendship. Besides, it might be interesting to see if he could manage it on his own without someone walking him through it.

Because he’d been the one to reject Esca’s advances, it was only right that he be the one to extend his own now. He waited, indecisive, until Esca had eaten dinner and cleaned up. Once the kitchen was empty, Marcus grabbed two of Esca’s beers from the refrigerator. It felt wrong to waste one of them like this, but he couldn’t just bring Esca one and not anything for himself. He _could_ eat and drink if the situation called for it; he just chose not to because there was no reason to waste the food.

He found Esca on the library balcony, sprawled over a chaise, a heavy book open on his lap. He looked up, startled, when Marcus opened the french doors and came out. “Do you mind if I join you?” he asked quietly, holding up the two bottles of beer.

“Of course not. I mean, it’s your house after all, right?” Esca sat up a bit, closing the book after sticking a scrap of paper in to hold his place. Marcus grinned and twisted the tops of the beers off, holding one bottle out to Esca, who took it and tapped the bottles together quickly. “Cheers!”

Marcus settled himself on another chair, taking his own small sip of the beer, rolling it around experimentally in his mouth. Alcohol didn’t carry over well to his limited taste sensors. He couldn’t really taste much, just a little bit of a bite, the sensation of fizz on his tongue. It was a novel experience, if nothing else, and made him glad that taste memory wasn’t something that could be transferred, else he probably would have had something else to miss in this new life.

“Do you come out here a lot?”

“Yeah, I like to read.” Esca patted the book he’d set beside his hip. “And your uncle has quite the collection.”

“We have a digital library, if you want. Everything in the library is there.”

“Nah, I actually prefer real books. Sometimes I think some of the old ways were better, you know?”

Marcus hummed noncommittally.

“I’m surprised, though,” Esca went on, “that your uncle has so many books. I don’t think I’ve seen a collection this big outside of the public libraries.”

“Uncle Aquila always liked to have the originals,” Marcus replied with a smile, which faltered when he realized how much that applied to himself. He took another hasty swallow of beer to cover his unease.

“Good man,” Esca chuckled, taking another pull on his bottle.

They sat in silence until both beers were gone and the sun had sunk below the treeline. “I should go,” Marcus said, standing up abruptly.

“All right,” Esca said, blinking up at him. “Hey, Marcus?” he called as Marcus opened the doors.

“Yes?”

“I’m up for doing this again, yeah? Anytime you want to come and talk, or even just sit, that’s cool with me.”

“Okay,” Marcus replied, nodding, a small, pleased smile creeping across his face. “I’d like that.”

~*~

Sometimes, Esca wondered how long Marcus had been alone in the house. Esca couldn’t have imagined anyone coming out of the army shy, but that’s exactly how Marcus struck him. Maybe he’d just gotten used to being alone, had forgotten how to be around people? Esca’s opinion of his employer fell further the longer he was out here. How could he have simply abandoned Marcus like that? Marcus was clearly lonely, and once he’d gotten over whatever hangup that had kept him distant from Esca, they spent a lot of time together. Sometimes he would help Esca with the chores, sometimes they would watch movies or play games, and sometimes they would just sit together, doing their own thing.

Esca hadn’t expected to find a friend when he’d taken the job, but that’s what had happened, he didn’t regret it.

His new friend also happened to be pretty hot.

That had been a new thought that had crept up the last few weeks. Esca had noted Marcus’s classic good looks when he’d first arrived, but dismissed them as soon as he realized what an anti-social bastard he was. But now that Marcus had warmed up, it was hard _not_ to notice, and Esca found himself crushing like a teenage girl. Anywhere else and Esca would have made a move, but given how new this friendship was with Marcus, Marcus’ perceived state, and how alone they were out here—while carefully noting that Marcus could crush him into paste if he took offense to Esca’s overtures—he resolved to keep in in his pants.

For now.

He finally made a move when they were sitting out on a deck, watching the sun go down. “So...” he drew out, “you haven’t had any visitors. No friends?”

Immediately, Marcus’s face became shuttered. “No. Not...not after the accident.”

“That sucks. Seriously. If they can’t be bothered with you, fuck ‘em.” Marcus blinked in surprise, but nodded, a tiny smile gracing his lips. “No girlfriend either, though? Guy like you...I’m surprised.”

“No,” Marcus replied quietly, glancing down at his hands. “No girlfriend.”

“No boyfriend?”

Marcus looked up and over at him, eyes widening and mouth parting slightly in surprise, the slightest hint of color appearing on his cheeks. “N-No,” he said, even more quietly than before. “No boyfriend.”

That probably shouldn’t have been enough to determine Esca’s next move, but he always believed in taking risks. Before he could think about it too much and change his mind, he stood up and crossed over to Marcus’s chair.

~*~

Marcus watched as Esca straddled his desk chair, and then sat down on his legs, an impish smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. Until the moment Esca had asked about girlfriends and boyfriends, Marcus hadn’t given it any thought. It simply wasn’t part of his life. He had memories of dating girls, had code to determine how to interpret sexual advances, but there had been no way to practically test the knowledge. Though he was fully functional, he had no sex drive to speak of; for all intents and purposes, he might as well have been a eunuch.

But when Esca sat down, the weight warm and solid atop Marcus--the most they’d ever touched--that aspect of Marcus came awake, nearly startling him with the intensity. He looked at Esca, at his high color and wide pupils, at the soft pink of his lips, dampened by a darting swipe of his tongue, at the slim, compact form that he’d noted was almost proportionally perfect, and he _wanted_.

He knew he should probably say something before this went anywhere, tell Esca what he was. But as Esca leaned forward, Marcus pushed up to meet him. At that moment, with something that was wholly his--because he was positive the real Marcus had never liked men--he didn’t care. He wanted this, and there would be enough time to tell Esca later.

The first kiss was a little hesitant, a little awkward, but Esca just laughed softly and pulled him in for another. Marcus learned quickly, returning the gestures and improvising until Esca pulled away breathless.

They didn’t do anything else that night, and the next day, Marcus gave a lot of thought to what he wanted to do. The conclusion he reached was that, yes, he wanted to have sex, and, yes, he wanted it to be with Esca. But surely Esca would notice if Marcus didn’t know what he was doing, or if there was no release when he orgasmed. The latter was easily taken care of with a rush order for synthetic semen, the kind used by pleasure androids, and the former by watching a lot of homemade porn.

And when he and Esca ended up in bed a week and half later, he was as ready for it as he would ever be.

~*~

After such a long time spent not even speaking to one another, Esca was a bit surprised by the rapidity with which Marcus acclimated to a physical relationship. But if he was alone, if he’d been craving touch this whole time and had simply been unsure and shy, then Esca couldn’t fault him for jumping into it so quickly. And he certainly had no objections.

In bed, Marcus was still himself--quiet, a little shy, a little hesitant, but he was so damn eager to please that he more than made up for any complaints Esca might have. Afterwards, lying next to Marcus, Esca couldn’t help but wonder what injury Marcus had sustained that had forced him out of the army. He looked whole and unblemished. Esca supposed it could have been internal injuries, perhaps bones or joints or tendons too damaged and replaced with artificial parts. But if so, the scarring was so minimal as not to be detected. The other, more logical answer was that Marcus had sustained head injuries. Maybe that was why he seemed so different from what Esca expected a soldier to be, why no one from his old life had anything to do with him now. Maybe he wasn’t the same person anymore.

It was a shame, but the loss to others was Esca’s gain. He snuggled closer to Marcus, and decided he’d wait to ask.

**Author's Note:**

> I will probably come back to tweak things as I go, but if it's anything major, I will leave a note to reread the relevant chapter.


End file.
